


Send Nudes

by Spudato



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Exhibitionism, Multi, Other, Petplay, cuddlesmut, nb!Ruby, nb!blake, queer smut by a queer writer for queer readers, trans!Velvet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 10:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19227421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spudato/pseuds/Spudato
Summary: In the middle of Vale's hottest summer, Ruby's feeling pretty hot and bothered. That's because of the weather, duh, and not at all because their extremely tall, extremely handsome, extremely frisky datemate is in the mood to do some frickety-frack. It's not really fair to leave out their girlfriend, though, who's in Menagerie being the world's greatest weightlifter, so Blake's got a solution: time to send some photos to keep her company until she's back home in their arms and, most importantly, in their bed.Ruby is excited to report that this masterful plan completely backfires.





	Send Nudes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AraneaValon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AraneaValon/gifts).



> Blake's pronouns are they/them, and Ruby and Velvet's pronouns are she/they! For the sake of clarity though, Velvet and Ruby are pretty much exclusively referred to as 'she' because boy the pronouns went wild in this one. Also, this is QUEER SMUT for QUEER PPL to enjoy so if trans/nb ppl w/ dicks are your """"kink"""" or whatever the shit, please leave!!! Thanks!!!
> 
> For Erin! This was a request a LONG time in the making but I hope this 10k of tender porn was worth it in end!

There’s lots and lots of things Ruby appreciates about the Belladonna-Rose apartment. The first thing is easy; she gets to live with her datemate, which is such a huge perk that honestly everything else about it pales in comparison, and anybody else in the entire world who’s ever had the chance to love Blake the way she does would agree.

The other things are all more, like, inconsequential as a result, but they’re pretty cool too. For example, the neighbours are all quiet (to the point that Ruby has a suspicion that _they’re_ the loudest ones here), and the landlord is generally laid-back. It’s probably ‘cause they’re a Faunus, so they don’t take much shit but they also don’t _give_ a whole lot of shit either, and Blake’s never had to worry about them knocking on the door to scapegoat them with something or other. Ruby’s never actually seen that happen, but judging from the faces Blake’s made and the fragments of stories they’ve told, it’s happened more than once, and it _sucks._

There’s other stuff Ruby likes -- two bedrooms, lots of windows, nice and airy -- but there is _one_ thing that, in Ruby’s mind, classifies as something close to a problem, and that’s the apartment’s location on the edge of the commercial district of Vale. No matter the hour (nor the day or week or month), the traffic piles up along curving roads until the whole district is in gridlock, and most of the time Blake’s car hardly leaves the garage because they’ll just end up sitting in traffic for half an hour as they try to cover a distance they coulda walked in five. Most of the time? That’s just fine. Other times, when they have to carry their groceries home on foot, dragging back their shopping in aching arms and half-torn bags? Well, let Ruby tell you, it’s _awful._

So, yeah, when they come home from a long-procrastinated shopping trip that they’d started being desperate to make since maybe _three days ago,_ Ruby practically kicks their front door open before she beelines for the kitchen, groaning with every step. Blake may well be carrying the designated _will tear your shoulders out of their sockets_ bags with all the milk and liquids and heavy stuff that weighs, like, twice as much as it looks, but Ruby still doesn’t really appreciate how much her arms hurt anyway.

“Uuuuuuuuu _uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu_ uuuuuuuuuuuugh, _Blaaaaaaaaake,”_ Ruby moans as she hauls her bags onto fake-marble countertops, palms sore and reddened from the bite of the plastic handles, and she stands for all of one second before she faceplants right into one of their coarse jute bags, a bag of chips crushed under one cheek like a crackly pillow where she will now die. If she’s being honest, the usual trips aren’t so bad! Today, though, was the terrible combo of carrying _multiple days_ worth of produce and it being the middle of _summer,_ when Vale’s temperature is out to kill the local populace by searing them alive. Ruby’s sweaty, Ruby’s tired, and Ruby thinks this district can jump into a well. “W-we made it… oh, my gods, I hate this--”

Well, there is something good to come out of all this, and Ruby definitely enjoys seeing how Blake’s arms flex as they drop their bags onto the counter next to her, their black t-shirt sheer and tight enough to show off the contour of muscle. They roll their shoulders, cracking their neck with a grimace, and Ruby wonder if they know how hot they are or how hot they make her just by, like, breathing.

“It’s not great,” they admit after a second or two, but Ruby didn’t expect much else. The Faunus is a lot less vocal about their discomfort, but that’s because most of it’s in the body language. Judging from the harsh slant of feline ears, or the jut of their jaw, they’re probably just as ticked off about this whole thing as Ruby is. Still, they like to be the adult in any given situation (or, well, _try_ to be, mostly) so they’re not gonna complain much more than that, beginning to open up the bags and arranging everything out on the counter instead. “But, hey, we did it, and that’s what matters.”

The silliest thing about all this is that they’ve both agreed -- on multiple occasions -- to start doing a bit of shopping every day to offset big trips like these, but as it turns out! To do that you need _energy_ and _commitment_ and also _days they get out of bed and into real clothes!_ Ruby doesn’t like to talk about how few and far between those sorts of days are, as a general rule of thumb, but she curses it all the same. Still, a thought pops into her head, and she snickers.

“Maybe,” she begins, and one of Blake’s ears swivel towards her. “It’d be easier if our three-hundred-pound, world-record-holding, strongest-woman-in-the-world girlfriend were here. You know, the one who could’ve carried all these bags and _also_ both of _us_ if she’d felt like it.”

Blake snorts, grin bright. “Our three-hundred-pound, world-record-holding, whatever-else-you-said _gee-eff_ is also in Menagerie right now so that everyone can admire how cute and sexy she is whilst whilst she adds another pretty gold medal to her collection, so.”

Blake’s right, unfortunately, but Ruby can be fake-grumpy about it anyway! Even so, she can’t wait to watch the livestream tomorrow evening and watch as Velvet lifts over twice her weight above her own floppy-eared head, giving the crowd her usual snaggletoothed smile and a little wink as if it’d taken no effort at all. Ruby’s said it before, but it’s always worth saying again; remembering that both she and Blake are dating Velvet is absolutely bonkers, and how on Remnant Velvet had been single when they’d met was one of the world’s untold mysteries. She should have had at _least_ seventeen girlfriends since, like, forever, but instead Ruby gets the unique satisfaction of knowing that, once the livestream’s over, Velvet will be flying home right back into their loving arms and also right into Blake’s bu--

“Hello? Ruby? Little strawberry? Is someone in there, or have you left all the lights on again?”

Blinking, Ruby realises that the whole time she’s been daydreaming about butts and dicks and the combination thereof, Blake’s been dutifully organising all of their shopping, folding away the bags for another day, and she yelps when Blake playfully squeezes her ass with a laugh. “Wh- hey!”

“Move it or lose it, baby girl, ‘cause your chocolate milk’s getting all warm.”

It’s true and Ruby makes a face because there really is nothing worse than _warm milk,_ ugh, so she starts to lend a hand, helping to arrange the contents of the fridge in just the way she likes before tossing what few things already there are past their use-by date. Cans are passed to Blake who reaches up to store them on the higher shelves that Ruby can only reach with the aid of a chair and thick-soled boots, and when Ruby tries to sneak a wide bar of chocolate into the pockets of her shorts, Blake tickles her into submission and swipes them from her reach, making sure they’re put far away from her eager hands.

There’s something fun about being domestic together like this; Blake’s nice to live with, ensuring Ruby doesn’t let the living space get congested with junk and papers whilst she ensures Blake doesn’t cram themself into their bedroom for days at a time without even a glimpse of sunlight. Chores aren’t even half as bad as they used to be when they do them together, playing music and singing even if they’re having to deal with cleaning the underside of the sink or something, and even stuff like laundry is-- well, that’s a little different. Making a mess of them in the first place is the real fun part, and it’s kinda thrilling to do it to such an extent they have to change the sheets after sex. Turns out, sometimes chores really are their own reward!

Still, once everything’s put away and looking kinda sorta tidy, Ruby finds she’s getting pretty sleepy _(lethargic,_ as Blake would say with their fancy words); it’s almost certainly ‘cause of the heat, the open windows doing very little to move around still, humid air. So, Ruby shuffles over to the living room -- the boundary between the rooms marked only by a change of linoleum to carpet -- and she lets herself fall onto the sofa with a splat, tossing her arms over her face. There’s a long moment of quiet, Blake huffing out a chuckle, and then a shadow gets cast over her and the sofa squishes down as Blake kneels beside her, a finger poking at a rounded cheek playfully. Rude.

“You’ve given me sleepy bitch disease,” Ruby announces -- a most dire accusation -- and Blake chokes on a startled laugh, cackling loud enough the neighbours will almost _definitely_ have heard it.

 _“Me?”_ they ask, affronted. “You’re the sleepiest bitch in _Vale,_ don’t even pretend.”

Ruby grins as she hears their smile around every syllable, and then whines then they poke at her ribs, at the soft pouch of her tummy. “Besides, you’re the one who asks me to take naps with you, like, all the time! And you dare tell me that I gave you _sleepy bitch disease--”_

“You’ve never said no!” Ruby points out with a squeal, and Blake snarls, hands sliding up her shirt to tickle sensitive skin, snapping her bra strap and making her kick her legs as she squirms under their touch. Blake may be very pretty with their words, usually, and can maybe out-argue anyone under the sun, but Ruby knows she’s right when they have no choice but to turn to petty tactics like _tickling_ or _kissing_ or maybe _straddling her waist_ and maybe _pinning down her wrists and making her moan a little when they suck on her neck just the way she likes--_

“Oh?” Blake murmurs as she snaps her jaw shut. She didn’t mean to let that slip out! “I thought you were tired, Mx Sleepiest Bitch.”

“I wa-- I _am!_ You’re the one licking me!”

But Blake’s not convinced, clearly, when they resume their kisses, tongue tracing random patterns and nipping at her skin with bright teeth, and Ruby knows they’ll leave a trail of pinkened marks wherever they go. She fights against their grip for a moment, gives up when nothing budges, and Blake chuckles when they feel the resistance. Truth be told, though, Blake wasn’t _wrong --_ Ruby already feels a whole lot less tired than she did five entire minutes ago, and instead the heat of the day is getting replaced by a different sort of warmth, hips wriggling under Blake’s as every breath comes out a little short. She’s really in the mood in be kissed by that stupid, perfect mouth and that stupid, clever tongue--

Blake must be able to maybe read her thoughts or something, ‘cause half a second later they do just that, gasping into her mouth, hand sliding up from her wrists to lock their fingers together instead. Ruby’s gotta say -- or, like, she would if Blake’s tongue wasn’t in her mouth right now -- that she’s glad Blake finds her irresistible for some reason or another. Usually they’re pretty good at projecting the image of some composed and firm top who doesn’t take shit from anyone, least of all their tiny girlfriend, but it’s an illusion so easily shattered with the right amount of kisses, or snuggles, or teasing, and it’s so cute! It’s cute how much they love to kiss her, it’s cute how much they can’t help but groan against her lips, and it’s _definitely_ cute when they roll their hips and moan, Ruby able to feel how hard they are right through their dark shorts.

“You-- mm, you’re being real, uh, frisky today,” Ruby laughs out between kisses, and with only a tightening of their grip as a warning, Blake sits back up with a pant, dark hair mussed and falling in twisting, heavy curls over their shoulders.

“S-sorry,” they say as if it’s something that has to be apologised for; then again, sometimes they even surprised themself how quickly they’d gotten hard over the tenderest of interactions. Also very cute, in Ruby’s mind. “If you, like, actually do wanna nap, you can if you want--”

It takes a bit of twisting and wriggling to do it, but Ruby manages to press a kiss to the jumping pulse in Blake’s wrist, and it plugs up Blake’s flow of stammered words well enough for her to actually get a word of her own in. This isn’t the first time -- and far from the last -- that Blake’s worried themself over any crossed boundaries ‘cause, well, they adore each other and Ruby can tell that the thought of ever hurting her haunts them like a ghost, even if it’s unintentional. It’s sweet, and Ruby appreciates that! But it does mean it’s her job to kinda egg them on if they get stuck, trying to knock them back into their groove before any sexy moods can be obliterated in the process. Thankfully, Ruby’s a master wordsmith. “I think I’d rather kiss your nasty mouth again, you big jerk.”

Blake stares down at her, brows furrowing together like they’re missing something, and then they grin all toothily as everything clicks. It almost certainly promises to leave more than a handful of bite marks on her once they’re through with her, and Ruby smiles right back, giggling when they let go of her hands to instead negotiate with her legs, freeing them from where they’re trapped under Blake’s hips to instead wrap them about their waist. The warm bulge in the front of their shorts presses right between her legs, and Ruby lets out some airy sigh at the tingle the contact causes, settling right into her tummy and humming like some exposed wire, flashing bright with sparks.

The next time they kiss, Blake grasps at her thighs as they really (like, _really_ really) rub against her, the entire curve of their dick pressing right against where she’s starting to ache, and it summons a startled little breath. Actually, it kinda wipes her brain of everything but a single braincell that thinks things like _‘hard’_ and _‘wow’_ and _‘blake’s really hot’,_ which are things they already know and would only stoke their ego to hear, so Ruby’s not gonna word any of ‘em! Nope! Can’t make her!

Well, not that it matters, really, ‘cause Blake’s kissing her and thoroughly occupying her mouth, and every time their hips press together she whines, one of Blake’s hands sliding up to tangle into short hair, the prickle of her undercut sliding against their palm. She’s turning into sun-warmed putty in their hands now, losing the edges to each other’s bodies, and gods Ruby loves how Blake’s so _dreamy_ and _dorky_ and also knows like three different ten-button combos in _Grimm Hunter: Resurgence_ which is the sexiest thing anybody can know or do--

 _“Please,”_ Ruby whimpers before she even realises what sounds are coming out of her mouth, and Blake’s pleased little purr in response could probably count as a weapon in an armed robbery or something, tilting their head back just enough for Ruby to be zeroed in on with yellow eyes.

“Please, _what?”_

Ruby-- well, Ruby isn’t too sure, actually! Her brain just kinda said it when she got a little too into remembering the whole button-combo thing that made her realise Blake was her soulmate and all that, but she’s pretty sure that Blake would rather hear her say literally _anything_ else than that in this circumstance because they don’t find video game skill as hot as she does. So, floundering, Ruby picks the first thing she knows they’re into and runs with it. “Uh… would you mind a crazy lot if I, um, sucked your dick?”

Blake sits up so suddenly that Ruby panics and thinks they’ve hurt themself or something, but then she sees the way their pupils are so blown that she can barely see pretty golden irises and, well, it’s really obvious Blake’s been smacked upside the head with a case of critical horny. It’s proven a second later when Blake scrambles free of Ruby’s legs, tugging at her arms with the single command of _up._ She could resist, maybe, and play the part of the cheeky puppy she loves to be, but the way Blake’s ears are standing straight up as they tug her faster is so adorable that she obeys anyway, letting Blake pull her to her feet and drag her towards their bedroom.

It’s worth reiterating that Ruby likes that they have seperate rooms. Ruby’s used to be the guest bedroom, but when she moved in Blake figured it made sense for each of them to have a private space. They kinda need it -- Blake likes to write alone, and Ruby’s usually on a call during a guild thing or whilst building circuit boards for another silly project -- and Ruby likes that they’re not the kind of people who need constant affection. It’s _nice,_ yeah, but if Ruby ever tries to talk and solder at the same time, someone’s gonna get burnt.

However, it’s Blake’s bedroom that has the bigger bed (with a new one en route now that Velvet stays over with them more often than not, ‘cause she’s, well, _big),_ and so that’s where the frickity-frackity tends to happen more often than not. They have a nice room, too, painted with a neutral charcoal grey on one wall, all their bedding and furniture a pale lilac with monochromatic accents, and it’s… well, _minimalist_ is probably the right word, free of any clutter and everything organised just so. Still, most minimalist stuff tends to lack any personal touches, whereas Blake’s room is scattered with them, if you know where to look; piles of well-worn and well-loved books are kicked under the bed, and framed photographs of friends and family, both distant and close, hang on the walls, sit on the bedside tables. Ruby can picture almost all of them in her mind’s eye -- most are of her and Blake on dates, alongside photos of Ghira, Kali, Yang and Pyrrha and Weiss. Lately, though, there’s been a few more of Velvet cropping up; it’s taken a while to collect enough photos that Blake’s found ones they wanted framed, but now her freckled face and lopsided smile is present everywhere Ruby looks. Even in the short space between being pulled through the doorframe and pushed down onto her knees at the foot of the bed, Ruby counts at least three photos of Velvet on the walls alone -- two of which see Ruby and Blake caught under her massive biceps, their cheeks squished against her boobs.

As a fun aside: Ruby has decided suffocating in Velvet’s cleavage is the only valid way for her to die. She’s just about to say exactly that when Blake sits in front of her, and in one hand is carried a bright red collar, studded with rounded black spikes. A silver tag glimmers in the light, and Blake’s fingers come up to curl under her chin, tilting her head up so that they can see her neck, the rounded line of her jaw, and their smile curves into a grin that warms her from head to toe with fuzzies. Their golden eyes move downwards, probably in two minds about how much clothing should come off before they get started, but then they reach up to comb her hair back, cupping her face before they press a kiss to her forehead.

“My pretty puppy,” they murmur, breath warm on her skin, and Ruby shivers when cool leather slips about her neck. “Little Cookie, so eager to please.”

As a rule, once the collar is on Ruby isn’t allowed to speak, muted to whines and barks and giggles and moans, so in the second before Blake can buckle it closed she presses a little kiss to her own to the tip of Blake’s nose. “I love you, Blake.”

In the moment of silence that follows, Blake’s eyes shift from a sharp, focused yellow to a softer, melting amber, adoration making their eyes shine like lantern-light, and Ruby thinks that’s a very gay thing to think. That’s why she thought it. “I love you too, baby.”

The collar pulls taut, and there’s a click as the silver buckle closes, leather tucked away so that when Blake gives it a tug it stays put. Ruby — well, _Cookie,_ now — shakes herself for show, as if she’d ever have the intent of trying to take it off anyway, but all she achieves is the tinkling of the tag, the collar twisting about her neck. It clings to her sweat, catches on the shaven prickles at the base of her skull, and Cookie likes how it feels to be collared, to be claimed like this. She likes to be eager to please, to be Blake’s pup, to be pet and kissed and owned and sometimes fucked within an inch of her life! All of that’s only been made worse (read: better) with Velvet, too, but Cookie’ll never complain; being squished between two tall, extremely hot Faunus who’re more than happy to use her for hours on end? Honestly, Cookie can barely believe it’s all real, some days.

With the collar in place and their personas settled, Blake’s hands rise up to their shorts, starting to tug the buttons open with an excitement that makes their fingers shake, just a little. Cookie nearly leans in, tempted to mouth at the bulge that obstructs the pull of a zipper, but before they can even work the waistband down past the curve of their impressive butt and give their puppy exactly what she asked for, Blake’s Scroll sounds off on the bedside table. Usually, this would annoy the heck out of Cookie and Blake both, because _nothing_ ruins the moment more than a phone call or a message! But Cookie recognises the little chiptune chime, has it pretty much embedded in her mind, because it’s the one and only tone of-- “Velvet!”

The glare that Blake shoots Cookie could probably, like, freeze the sun or something, and she claps both hands over her mouth as if she can physically push the word back in, squeaking in apology. Luckily, they relent after hardly a second, and they lean back to grab their Scroll, enlarging the screen with a tap of the diamond button in the centre. As they flip over to their messages they reach out to stroke through Cookie’s hair, her mistake forgiven, and she melts under their steady touch, firm enough to massage her scalp but not lightly enough to make her freak out or anything. Like, seriously, overly-gentle touches are maybe only slightly better than feeling _spiders_ crawling on bare skin. It’s awful!

“Awh,” Blake coos, and Cookie blinks, trying to crane her head to see the screen. “She’s sent us a gym selfie before she goes to work out.”

They angle the screen downwards, and Cookie can feel her face flush pink just looking at the photo. It’s not even all that, like, _suggestive,_ really (well, more like it’s not very suggestive for Velvet, because Velvet’s idea of _suggestive_ tends to be Blake’s idea of _full-frontal nudity)_ , with her in a tight sports bra and really, _really_ short shorts over that looks like a bright yellow thong, the top of her face cropped out and showing only a snaggletoothed smile and a pink tongue. There’s a bulge in the front of her pants that Cookie knows rivals Blake’s even when she’s soft, but the real attraction -- in her very honest opinion -- is actually her tummy; it’s chubby enough to be pillow soft, but when she flexes it as she is now, it’s about as solid as stone. When Blake had first met Velvet they’d frantically texted her a description _(she’s like if a blueberry muffin had a baby w/ a brick wall or something)_ and they hadn’t been far wrong. Seriously, Velvet’s the poster child of _get you a girl who can do both._

__

A second message pops up under the photo, reading _a little smthng to keep u excited until i come home xoxo,_ and Blake sniggers.

“We should give her something to keep her excited too, huh, pup?” Blake purrs, and they tilt Cookie’s head up again, showing off the collar. “Stay.”

She does, because she’s good and wants to be praised, and there’s a little excited quiver that tingles from head to toe as Blake levels the camera at her, angling it just so until there’s a little artificial _click_ of the shutter. She can’t see it from where she’s sat, but her owner seems to deem it good enough to send it right away with a swipe of their thumb, putting the Scroll aside as they lean forwards, kissing her with a whisper of _good puppy._ Before they can really push it much further, though -- a hot swipe of their tongue along her lip, a gasp into her open mouth -- there’s another little tune as a new message arrives, and Blake pulls back with a smile, their still-bright inbox filling with messages.

 _IM!!!!! TRYIN 2 FOCUS HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!_ __  
_yr gonna make me flex the wrong muscle aaaaaaaaaa_  
cookie is….. so cute tho….. tell her i love her……………………………

Squirming, Cookie rubs her cheeks against Blake’s bare and fuzzy thighs, dark hair tickling her nose as she nips at soft skin. Velvet’s always teasing her, and she never knows what to do with herself! Blake likes to be firm about things (most of the time), trying their best to be a proper owner and making sure she doesn’t break any rules, but Velvet… well, Velvet doesn’t really play along, admitting that she prefers seeing how far she can push before something snaps, trying her best to make Cookie squeak out words or accidentally slip over the edge of an orgasm…

Blake had thought to try and stop her, once, by turning the tables onto Velvet instead, trying to get her to obey rather than resist them at every turn. Velvet had played along for all of maybe five minutes before she’d rolled her shoulders, flipped Blake over, and nailed them against the mattress until they’d lost all feeling in their legs. Blake had deemed it a lost cause after that, but Cookie’s glad that it means they’re a lot more lenient about punishing her after she’s had a few rounds with Velvet, otherwise her butt would never be free of the pink and red bloom of a solid spanking, their nails raking lines right down the back of her thighs.

From their Scroll comes the clickety-click of their keyboard, sending messages back with a grin before they lock the Scroll and put it aside again, and they hook their thumbs into the waistband of their shorts to bring Cookie’s attention right back where it needs to be.

“You’re such a patient puppy,” Blake says, and then they slide their shorts down until they slip onto the carpet, kicking them aside before they sit back on the edge of the mattress. Cookie wriggles under the praise, and then whines when she sees that under the soft cotton of their purple briefs is the perfect curve of their dick, straining to be freed into open air and into her wanting mouth. Her owner isn’t so kind as to just drop their pants too, though, and instead a hand on the back of her head guides her forward, letting her nuzzle the stiff shaft with her nose and lips. “Mm, so well behaved, so good for me.”

Cookie kisses right along the solid warmth of their shaft before her aim dips lower, mouthing at their balls, before she traces her way back up, tongue teasing a damp spot near the head that’s growing with every second. The breathy sigh her owner makes is very satisfying to hear, their cock twitching, and Cookie can tell Blake can’t resist her much longer. Sometimes they’re pretty good at being a calm, collected top, like something right out of the pages of one of the many, many smutty novels they write, and they’ll have self-control in spades. Some days, though, the persona sorta shatters before it can even really get put together, and today feels like a bit of both -- they want to have restraint, but they’re also really _bad_ at it.

Turn out, not ten seconds later, she’s right! Blake finally lets out one long, shuddering breath, and they stand up just enough to shuffle their pants down to their knees, revealing dense curls that run up their tummy and down the inside of their thighs. That’s a treat in and of itself, really, but it can’t compare to the moment their dick finally springs free, a pinkened head already dripping. It’s takes a lot (like, a _lot)_ of willpower for Cookie to stay seated and not instantly reach up to taste it, but she’s a good pup, and good pups do as they’re told and don’t immediately grab their owner’s dick the moment it’s presented!

When Blake sits back down they coax Cookie upwards for a kiss, fingers curling under her chin again, and she dares to slide her hands along their thighs, the muscle solid under her fingertips. It’s cheeky enough that, were Blake being a proper toppy-top and not just a big gay boner-owner, Cookie would probably get a big bitemark on her shoulder for the next week, but instead Blake just pulls her deeper into the kiss, tongue hot against hers.

“Mm,” they groan against her lips, before they start kissing at her cheek, her jawline, suckling at the side of her neck and making sure to leave a mark not half an inch from where the collar rests. “Does my puppy want my cock in her pretty mouth? Want me to come down her throat? Or maybe...” Their mouth moves to her ear, and their whisper is loud enough to imprint itself on her brain. “Maybe you’d rather I made a mess of your face and sent the proof to Velvet?”

The thought makes Cookie choke, and a blush runs right across her face and drips down onto her shoulders. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve done the latter, actually; Velvet’s never been shy about sending photos from her hotel rooms when she’s across the world competing -- as the gym selfie proves -- and so Blake had figured that, hey, it’s only fair to send back equally as explicit images in return, right?

Sometimes, when the excitable haze of arousal is gone in the morning, it makes Cookie miss Velvet something awful, finding that her absence leaves a sizeable hole to be filled (no, the hole _isn’t_ Blake’s butt) that the photos she sends reminds her of all too keenly. Most of the time, though, they leave Cookie’s thighs sticky and her body warm, so that by the time Velvet returns home Cookie’s aching for her touch, and her kisses, and her _boobs,_ and her _really thick dick--_

During her red-faced silence, though, Blake’s pushed her back down to her knees, and a different dick takes the forefront of her mind when her owner teases the tip of their cock over her lips. It leaves behind a slickness that Cookie’s incredibly familiar with, and it’s maybe the hardest thing in the world to keep her jaw clamped shut when they’re teasing her like this, waiting for permission before she can run her tongue along her lips, before she can get a taste of them. She’d do anything to be able to finally feel the way they throb in her mouth, and Blake has to know this, must be able to see it in her eyes---

“Open.” The stern command is edged with breathlessness, Blake grabbing a handful of hair to hold her steady, and Cookie obediently opens her mouth half a second before their cock is pushed inside. The shiver Blake makes is, honestly, _really_ hot, and focusing on the sensitive head makes their shoulders roll and thighs tense, before they let out an airy laugh. “Ah, you’re really-- mm, _really_ good at that. So cute, so good.”

Despite their grasp on her hair, Blake lets Cookie set the pace, slowly working her way down their length. She may have only had a grand total of two different dicks in her mouth in her lifetime, but Cookie _will_ have you know she’s gotten pretty good at getting both said dicks off! It helps that Blake’s lengthier than Velvet, whilst Velvet is, uh, _girthier_ (a word that used to make Cookie laugh until she realised it’s actually more of a _threat)._ It means that whilst Velvet ensures she gets plenty of jaw exercise, Blake makes her have to batter her gag-reflex into submission to take them down her throat, and so Cookie’s got all her dick-sucking bases covered! She likes to think she’s pretty good at it by now!

Well, she doesn’t have to _think_ she does, really, because on the back of her tongue she can taste her owner’s pre-cum dripping with every suck, and when she glances upwards Blake’s watching with blown pupils and a wet mouth, panting as sweat gathers on their temples, the humid air forcing the temperature twice as high.

“Nn-- yes, Cookie, good puppy, mm… wanna take it deeper, baby? Ah, yes, good, mm--”

Another little chiptune notification sets off, and Blake glances over before they scoop up their Scroll, giggling as they turn the screen around to show Cookie the new message: _if shes suckin yr bicc (blake dicc) tho i want some pix ;****_

It takes a lot of strength not to snort around Blake’s shaft, because that would be decidedly unsexy, and Blake’s eyes glimmer before they switch over to the camera app, leaning back just a little to get her centred in the frame. “I’d tell you to smile, cutie, but I’d rather you kept doing what you do best.”

The shutter closes with a click, and then Blake’s hands shake a little when Cookie surges forward, the head of their cock pressing to the back of her throat and held there. “A-ah, _fuck…_ gods, this picture almost looks as good as your mouth does right now, mm.”

Cookie quietly hopes Velvet isn’t somewhere where her dick will be particularly visible through her tight shorts, because otherwise it’s not going to take very much for people to add one and two together once she sees what Blake’s about to send. Then again, Velvet once said it’s quite possible for her to pop a half-chub midway through a lift, so maybe if she times it right, she’ll be able to explain it away. Maybe.

The photo is sent off with another swipe, and then Blake practically tosses the Scroll aside to slide both hands into her hair, tangling strands about their knuckles. Gently, they start to pump her head closer, each suck pressing deeper and deeper, and Cookie reaches up to loop her arms about their hips, bringing herself closer still. She likes being able to touch them when she pleases their dick, to get as much contact as she can reach for, feeling every minute shift of muscle as they grunt and moan. She likes it even more when the grip on her hair starts to almost hurt, their gasps loud enough to make the hairs along her arms stand tall, thrusts shifting from tender motions to something desperate and sloppy and rough.

“Oh, _yes, yeah--_ you feel so good, feel so fucking _good, ah--”_

Cookie can feel arousal starting to run down her thighs, eager and untouched, and when she presses her legs together and clenches tight around nothing she becomes so very ferociously aware that she’s really dang horny right about now! It’s only made worse by having Blake in her mouth ‘cause she adores the way they taste, the way they smell like dark cocoa and bitter black tea, and the way she can feel them twitch, their hips jerking out of their own control, is so unbelievably sexy that if she touched herself right now she’d probably come right away.

There’s another message from Velvet -- multiple, actually, the Scroll chiming away -- but they go ignored as Blake leans back on one elbow, knees spreading wide as Cookie clambers after them, refusing to add even an inch of extra distance between them, desperate to make them come. She rests an arm across their full and bucking hips as she takes them all the way down her throat, dense curls tickling at the tip of her nose, and Blake shouts and moans and grunts, cock stiffening harder still, all their control coming loose.

“F-fuck, oh my fucking gods, ah, Cookie, fuck, more, please, I’m close--”

The _please_ isn’t something Blake ever really says during sex like, _ever,_ since they’re usually the kind to go ‘well I’m the dom so I shouldn’t have to beg for anything ‘cause, like, you can just give me what I want when I want it, ‘cause you’re my puppy and you do as I tell you’. So Blake must be a complete wreck right now to let that slip, and Cookie’s so excited that she’s about to focus on the sensitive tip and make them come across her tongue when Blake gasps and stutters and then pushes her head back, mouth releasing off their dick with a pop and trail of saliva and pre-cum.

“O-on your face,” they say, every word deep and rumbling in their chest, purred almost into nothing but vague sounds. “Where I can see it.”

The thought makes Cookie moan, and she presses a kiss to the pinkened tip before she takes their cock in her hand, tongue circling the head as pre-cum drips down her fingers, stroking the stiff, warm shaft. Blake’s grunts of pleasure are muted behind grit teeth, pitching upwards when she tightens her grip, and then they grow in volume as they roll onto their back, dick throbbing against her palm. A tingle of excitement runs right down between Cookie’s legs, and her hand moves faster, trying to coax them right over the edge. They’re going to come, she _wants_ them to come, wants to feel them come across her face and in her mouth and slicken her palm, and her pumps are firm and fast as they twitch and throb and groan out one long, loud note of desire--

They come. They come on a sharp inhale, their body tensing up until they grunt and roll their hips, and the first little spurt of cum lands mostly on Cookie’s hand until the second reaches her mouth, a third landing across the bridge of her nose, and to be honest, it’s so unbearably hot that Cookie thinks she could probably come from being come onto alone! Having the proof of being used smeared over her -- on her face, or her boobs, or her tummy or her ass -- is like being claimed as their property, and Cookie thinks cum is just really _sexy._ Her peak lifestyle would include, one hundred percent, daily doses of Blake and Velvet both coming in or on her once a day.

Underneath her weight, Blake shudders and sighs, and the final drips of cum slip between Cookie’s fingers, every wet pump of her hand loud enough to leave her face pink and clit hard. She doesn’t stop, though, even as Blake starts to soften up, waiting until their gentle touch brings her to a slow halt.

“Good pup,” they murmur breathlessly, and they stroke a thumb along her cheek, taking in her cum-splattered face with a chuckle. Their pupils are still blown, all dark and cute and soft in the light of orgasm, and their tongue darts out to wet their lips. “Good, good puppy. You did so well, and you made me feel so good.”

The praise makes her giggle, and she has to look away because Blake’s blissful afterglow expression makes her want to both make out with them and also make them come over and over again. The good news is that before she can act on either of those plans, Blake’s Scroll sounds off again with a new message, and Blake finally reaches over to take a look, laughing at whatever she’s sent.

“Apparently, we weren’t meant to send that _now.”_

Cookie snorts, imagining Velvet’s flustered look as she probably does that thing she does where she presses her Scroll into her boob to hide the screen from prying eyes, and then Blake slides her hand away from their dick, pressing her own cum-coated fingers to her lips instead. “How about you clean up for me, pup, and I’ll send her something as an… _apology,_ huh?”

Blake levels the camera lens at her again, so Cookie makes a show of lapping up the mess from her hand, tongue working between her knuckles and across the back of her palm as Blake snaps one, two, three, four different photos. Then, whilst Cookie focuses on cleaning about her mouth, Blake flicks through their options, jumping back and forth between two specifically before they show her the screen with a smile. “This one, you think?”

It’s probably the second picture they took, with Cookie’s bright silver eyes trained not quite at the camera but towards Blake behind it, her tongue running over her knuckles and sunlight caught shining on the cum across her nose. It’s a good picture, actually! She looks pretty, uh, _debauched_ (which is a very fancy word that sounds like something you’d order off a menu but which Blake has stressed that _no,_ it really _isn’t)_ and yet it’s still very cute! Cookie doesn’t consider herself super cute -- despite Blake and Velvet’s objections -- because she’s just sort of rounded and still gets asked for ID when she tries to buy drinks, which does not a cutie make! But Blake would just put their puppy eyes on her if she said that, and their puppy eyes are so potent that they even work on _her,_ who was, once, Puppy Eyes Supreme Champion! So she just nods her assent as she nuzzles into Blake’s outreached hand, the photo sent with a swipe of Blake’s thumb, and Cookie counts about five seconds before a new chiptune starts up -- not a message, this time, but a call.

“Oh, here we go,” Blake says around a grin, and they answer the call with a tap and switch it to speaker, letting Velvet’s voice ring loud and clear throughout their bedroom.

“I am _trying!”_ She starts with a shout, and Blake bursts into laughter. “To work _out!_ So that I can win a _medal_ and defend my _title_ around here and all I get is my _unsupportive datemates_ sending me--” Velvet’s voice drops low, mostly because there’s other voices in the background and she’s clearly not in a private place. “Sending me pictures like _that_ and makin’ me flex the wrong dang _muscles!_ Why’re you teasin’ me like this?!”

Blake just chuckles away, reaching over to loosen Cookie’s collar so she can speak to Velvet too. “Because we love you and we miss you, and maybe we wanted to make sure you had something to keep you company tonight. It’ll distract you if you get nervous.”

 _“Nervous?_ _Me?_ Pffft, only thing I’m nervous about is not breakin’ my world record! I’m gonna do it for you, babes-- or, like, I _was,_ but after all this bullyin’ I’m startin’ to think I should do it for, like, my da or somethin’...”

Judging from Blake’s bright eyes and toothy smile, their body all slack and relaxed after orgasm, they’re seeing right through the bluff. “And here I was, keeping little Cookie all in practice so she can give you a nice, warm welcome when you come home,” they sing, and Cookie laughs over Velvet’s grumble.

“I swear, if you two miss the livestream ‘cause you’re too busy _frickin’_ when you’re meant to be supporting your favourite girlfriend, I’m gonna pop off.”

Tugging the Scroll closer, Cookie joins in. “Blake wouldn’t let us miss it if we even tried! They won’t say it to your face, but they think the lycra’s very sexy--”

A warm palm strikes her forehead and bodily pushes her away from the Scroll, Velvet sniggering as Blake sputters and chokes. “Hey, not true! I mean, like, _you’re_ sexy, Velvs, but the bodysuit--”

“No, no, it’s okay, I’m pretty sure vacuum-packed dick is a real kink--”

“No! Stop it! Absolutely not!”

Cookie almost topples over laughing at Blake’s mortified expression, trying to hide it by running a hand over their face and cursing in their pretty Menagerian dialect, and it’s not helped by Velvet’s giggling on the other end of the call. Still, she turns it into kisses and coos pretty quickly, trying to soothe their bruised ego. “Don’t worry baby, I know you’re always into me no matter what I gotta wear. Besides, think of it this way! Everyone might get to see this piece of beef on the shelves--” Another kissy sound, and a pause for what Cookie knows is almost definitely a flex. “But only you two get to taste it for yourselves.”

Blake’s face shifts from horrified to something like a grimace of disgust, like when you have to clean out a drain or something and it absolutely stinks, and every word they say comes out sort of strangled. “Yeah don’t-- don’t use that metaphor ever again, thanks.”

“Please, you know you love it. Anyway, I gotta try and actually do some warm-ups, so I’m gonna go focus on my weights and _not_ on what you two’re up to. Tell Cookie I love ‘em!”

“Love you too!” Cookie shouts before Velvet can end the call, and there’s a quick back-and-forth of kissing sounds before she finally rings off, the screen turning back on to show Velvet’s caller ID, her photo not even of her face but of her cleavage instead. It’s a tight crop, but Cookie knows that if it were zoomed out she’d see her own hands squishing the boobs together. What can she say? She knows what she likes!

Despite the call being over, Blake still hasn’t recovered, still holding their face in one hand, and Cookie knows that if she touched their cheeks they’d be aglow with heat. She’s about to test that theory, feeling all bold now that she’s heard Velvet’s voice for the first time in a few days, but then Blake grabs her collar and buckles it shut around her neck again, ensuring every word she’d planned to say stays locked behind her teeth.

“Naughty pup,” they growl, and they tweak her nose, still wet with cum. “Breaking so many rules today.”

Cookie’s about to shake her head -- she hasn’t broken any, not really, not yet! But then Blake roughly lifts her chin for a kiss and, oh, she sees how it is now. What soft, sweaty, sleepy top they’d been before isn’t who’s kissing her now, biting her lip and making her moan, pulling her closer with fingers pressing hard enough to bruise. This Blake -- embarrassed, maybe a little vengeful -- is the Blake she likes the most, who knows her inside and out, who knows exactly what she wants, what she _needs,_ and it sends a thrill down her spine when they pull away, fingers locking about her collar to hold her still, eyes sharp and focused. “But you still want to be good for me, yeah?”

Cookie nods as best she can against their grip, and Blake leans forwards to lap their cum off her chin, off the bridge of her nose, tongue wet and warm and oh boy, Cookie really wishes it was between her legs right now. “Then how about you pose for me, and I’ll take more photos to send to Velv, huh? We’ll wind her up real good, so when she comes home after she’s on top of the world, she can fuck you senseless for me.”

Cookie thinks about the fact that there’s a buffer on Blake’s headboard, about the last time Velvet railed her so good that she couldn't walk for a day, and she very audibly gulps. Blake’s punishments tend to be their own reward, but sometimes they really are too cruel to her.

* * *

 

Four days later, and Ruby’s lounging around in the living room, partly paying attention to reruns of old cartoons on TV whilst mostly waiting for the familiar buzz of her Scroll. She’s been texting Velvet back and forth since her plane landed in Vale, because Velvet was very stubborn about not needing a lift, no, it’ll take forever for them to get to the airport so she’d just take a bus and walk back, it’d be fine. Ruby doesn’t doubt her, of course, because she’s over six feet tall and is also the strongest woman on the planet -- as proven by her new world record in Menagerie -- so it’s not like anyone can exactly stop her. It just means that, well, Ruby doesn’t really have an ETA for her return, and cartoons aren’t a very good distraction when she’s remembering all the photos Blake sent her and all the ominous replies they got back, like _oh yr gonna regret doin that._

Also, outside of the horny undercurrent, Ruby just misses her big girlfriend! Sometimes, it’s as simple as that! Because, if you don’t already have the pleasure of knowing, seeing your big girlfriend go on stage, wink at the crowd, and then lift over twice her own weight above her head is something Ruby would highly recommend for just about anyone to try. Maybe the lycra _does_ mean vacuum-packed dick, but it also means it certainly doesn’t hide anything, and that makes Ruby especially smug when she’s had the pleasure of seeing, touching, kissing, and licking just about everything under it. It’s hot, okay! She’ll die on this hill!

This is why, when the door clicks open about ten minutes later, Ruby practically launches herself off the sofa with all the speed of a bullet, almost crashing right into Blake as they poke their head out of their bedroom. Velvet’s already got her case through the door, followed pretty quickly by herself, and it’s kinda hard to miss her when she’s wearing an alarmingly yellow tank top (reading _‘I Get My Protein From Chicken Nuggets’)_ and bright blue boardshorts that make her look like she’s just come straight from the picturesque beaches of Menagerie. The centrepiece, though, is easily the glittering golden medal that’s slung about her neck on a red-and-white ribbon, currently resting on the swell of her boobs and only slightly diminished by the brightness of Velvet’s wide grin as Ruby comes barrelling towards her, throwing her arms wide with a shout. “Baby!”

If it were, say, Blake that Ruby was throwing herself at, then she’d probably think twice about sprinting directly at them at a hundred miles per hour. The good news is that because it isn’t Blake, Ruby has no such concerns, and so when she leaps into the air without a care in the whole wide world and gets caught in the circle of Velvet’s arms, it’s like ramming herself into a very large, very firm pillow. A very large, very firm, very _strong_ pillow that wraps Ruby up in arms so beefy that Velvet could probably flex her spine into eight pieces with even the tiniest show of strength. It’s very sexy.

“Oh, babes, I missed you soooooooooo much,” Velvet moans into the crook of Ruby’s shoulder, and Ruby can feel Blake catch both of them in a hug -- or, like, try to, at least, ‘cause she can tell that Blake can’t even reach halfway around the pair of them, but it’s more the thought that counts. “Did I prove myself worthy of your many affections? I got a new world record, baby!”

“You know you don’t have to prove yourself for us,” Blake mumbles into the crease between Ruby and Velvet’s bodies, pressing their face into the gap like they’re trying to leave an indent there. “We missed you too.”

Velvet coos at them before she presses kisses to Ruby’s neck and jaw and cheek and nose, and then she leans back to look Ruby over, like she’s checking nothing’s changed since she last saw her. Alas, Ruby still got carded last night whilst buying cider for tonight, so she still looks twelve, apparently. Velvet’s got the same roundness to her face, too, only she’s smattered in freckles like a sesame-seeded bun, her hair tied back into a long ponytail that runs right down her back, and in a fit of adoration Ruby kisses her before she can speak, liking the way her mouth feels different to Blake’s, warm and soft and always curved into a smile.

“Ew, rude,” Velvet murmurs against her lips, nipping playfully before she uses her forehead to push Ruby back, one long, flopping hare ear brushing against Ruby’s hair before it flicks away. “You’re cute, though. Missed having you around to be my widdle water bottle.”

Ruby squirms in her arms, and she’s kinda struggling for words! Sometimes, when she’s missed someone as much as she has Velvet, all the squishy feelings inside rise up and fight to get out, tangling together until all Ruby can really parse is just _!!!,_ which really makes it absolutely no wonder to anyone ever why she’s their puppy. Blake once said it’s a good thing she doesn’t have a tail or anything, ‘cause it’d probably wind up counting as a weapon of mass destruction with the amount of sound-barrier-breaking wagging it’d do.

Anyway, point being, Ruby just wriggles about soundlessly for a few seconds until Velvet sets her back down onto solid ground, a kiss planted onto her short hair and patted flat until Velvet turns to Blake, smile slanting upwards. She’s only a little taller than them, actually, more broad where they’re lithe, and that means she barely has to duck her head down to catch them in a greeting kiss too. Blake hums, the corner of their mouth curling in a smile to match as they step a little closer, but when Velvet catches one of their wrists in her hand, browned and scarred knuckles tightening their grip until it’s nigh unbreakable, Blake’s eyes open wide, staring at Velvet with a loose jaw when she breaks the kiss.

“But you, handsome…” Velvet starts, and her lopsided grin isn’t quite so easygoing any more, turning just a little devious when her brows knit together. “Sending me all those photos of our little puppy even when I told you that you were _distracting me?”_ She tuts, and Blake lets off a nervous little giggle, trying to tug out of her grip and failing miserably. Ruby’s starting to see how a plan backfires in slow motion, and she’s just gonna put all the cards on the table: this is _incredibly_ satisfying. Velvet must know it, too, her other hand making Blake bow their head so she can whisper right into their satin-soft feline ears. “I think I know exactly what you were trying to pull, too.”

“What, uh, what was I doing?” Blake’s trying to cling to some composure as best they can, and Ruby can see their brain going _you’re a big tough top and you can’t be cowed by the world’s strongest woman even if she IS the world’s strongest woman and oh gods her biceps are flexing oh no she’s hot,_ and when Velvet drops her hold on their head to instead grab at the curve of their butt, all the tension in her body translates very suddenly, very explicitly, into _frustration._

“You thought you’d send all those naughty pictures of Cookie eating your cum and taking your dick up her ass because it’d get me so horny I’d come home and fuck her whilst you got to watch, right? That you could wind me up and let me go and our little puppy would take the _thick_ of it, yeah?”

Blake’s been read so easily that it makes Ruby bubble up in laughter, and it’s all the confirmation Velvet needs to tug Blake closer still, their bodies pressed together, their lips almost touching, Blake’s breathless little gasp almost caught in a kiss.

“Bad news for you, baby. You’ve kept me all pent up for four days, and now all I wanna do is see you taking _mine.”_

Blake’s knees have to give out -- Ruby’s sure want to -- because if it wasn’t for how tightly Velvet’s holding them, they’d probably be on the floor right now, melting like a puddle of wax. Velvet takes another kiss from their slackened mouth, and another and another, and her voice comes out low and hissed between them, eager, commanding. “Get on your fucking bed with your ass in the air. In ten minutes you’re gonna be hoping the neighbours aren’t in.”

Blake nods, whines, and when Velvet lets them go they scramble towards their room, their door shutting tightly behind and their bed squeaking as they probably leap onto it, leaving Velvet and Ruby together in the hallway. With a huff of surprised laughter, Velvet closes their front door, kicking her case further inside, and Ruby’s eyes fall back onto her medal, glinting with a polished sheen. It’s etched with a duned horizon of the desert and the silhouettes of palm trees, the three stripes of the Menagerie flag filling the sky above. Truth be told, Velvet has a ton of similar medals -- not of this specific contest, but of hundreds of others from all across Remnant, stored in Velvet’s bedroom of her own apartment and hanging from a shelf that heaves from the sheer weight of them all. This one, though? Well, given it’s a win on her home turf and one that redefined a world record, this one’s a little special! As such, Ruby knows that this one is going--

“Here you go, baby,” Velvet says, and Ruby blinks from her thoughts and looks up just in time for the ribbon to be placed about her own neck instead, the medal heavy enough to pull it taut and hang just above her own tummy. It feels strange to wear, but the pressure around her neck reminds her instead of a studded collar, of a little puppy waiting to love her girlfriend, and Ruby feels a burst of longing. “Aw! It suits you! We gotta get you lifting weights sometime and winning some of your own, huh?”

Ruby blushes, preens, and then throws herself back into Velvet’s arms. It’s funny; for years she’s been in love with Blake, feeling like a dream come true. They’re tall and funny and handsome and sleepy, and they made her -- _make_ her -- feel like she’s something special, their attention always kind of a gift. Back then, Ruby couldn’t imagine needing anybody else in her life. Why would she? Blake was everything she’d ever wanted!

But now, with Velvet? She just makes everything feels like home, like there’s a bout of happiness right around the corner. Even on the days when Blake’s grumpy or irritated beyond any real repair, or when Ruby’s tired and dysphoric and a mess of a person, Velvet lights everything up just by being near, makes everything feel like it’s gonna get _better._

Her being away reminded Ruby of what it was like when it was just the two of them, and even though she enjoyed Blake’s sole attention, it’s just not the same now. When Velvet’s not here, there’s a bittersweet sort of longing only soothed when she comes back home. It’s all very poetic and romantic and Ruby’s pretty sure Blake’s using those exact words to write a novel right now, but it’s how she feels. She loves Velvet! She missed her so much!

But she doesn’t say any of that. Instead, she opts for the direct route.

“Are you gonna fuck Blake now?” Ruby asks, words muffled into a boob, and Velvet laughs, ruffling her hair and squeezing her tight.

“Hell yeah I am. How about you come and sit on their face whilst I make a mess of their butt?”

Ruby grins. Velvet can’t see it from where she’s squashed against her, but she can probably feel it all the same. That’s just what being in love is all about.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! If you enjoyed this fic, how about tossing me some kudos and maybe a comment? Otherwise, you can follow me over at faunusrights.tumblr.com for RWBY content, art, and fic like this! Or, kinda like this. A little like this. There was a porn ban, but that sign won't stop me 'cause I can't read.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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